


Sweater Weather

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Cookies, Corny, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Holidays, Romance, Stora, Ugly Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 04:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1102694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cora is spending Christmas with the Stilinskis. Ugly holiday sweaters are worn. Cookies are baked. Adorableness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweater Weather

**Author's Note:**

> This could very well be part of a Christmas series with Stora and Sheriff Stilinski. I just have to write the other bits before New Years, I suppose!

“Stiles, calm down. I’m leaving in 10 minutes; I just have to finish packing.”  
“I’m sorry, babe, I’m just really excited for you to get here.” Cora’s arrival was slated for 7 o’clock, but her boyfriend was getting impatient. He’d called her a few times that day, and although he had just seen her the day before at school, he couldn’t wait for her to settle in with him and his father, and start the holiday festivities. Because Peter provided no comfort and her older brother had a last-minute storage facility emergency on the east coast to attend to, Cora was left all by herself for Christmas. Her boyfriend of a few months, Stiles, obviously couldn’t have that, and begged his father to let her stay with them for Christmas break. The sheriff, upset at even the thought of anyone having to spend December 25th alone, scolded his son for thinking he needed to ask for permission.  
“Just try to relax,” Cora chided through the phone. “This is vacation, after all.”  
“I’ll see you soon, then,” said Stiles, reluctantly letting Cora get off the line and continue readying herself for her visit.  
“Bye Stiles,” she answered. He almost hung up, but she said one last thing before they disconnected. “I’m excited too.”  
The proceeding twenty minutes felt more like an hour to him, so when the doorbell finally rang, Stiles bounded off the couch and went hastily to the door, swinging it wide open. Cora was standing outside, duffel bag slung over her shoulder, the pale yellow light from the porch lamp shining down on her. Snow was falling softly, and Stiles only didn’t comment on the perfection of the moment so as not to shatter it.  
“Hey,” he greeted, taking the bag off her shoulders, jumping at the chance to be chivalrous.  
“Hey yourself.” Cora stepped inside and shimmied out of her jacket. Stiles tossed her duffel bag onto the couch and, after oh so politely hanging up her coat, pulled her into a hug. Cora, embracing her boyfriend firmly, breathed in deeply, but still tried to be subtle about it. She kind of loved the way he smelled, but if she admitted how meaningful the scents of musky cologne and dryer sheets, paired with a faint whiff of minty toothpaste, were to her, she knew he’d never let her live it down.  
“Oh my God,” said Stiles when they drew back from the hug. He gave Cora a quick once over and laughed once, beaming at her.  
“What?” she grumbled, looking down at herself.  
“That sweater is downright adorable. I knew you could be sexy, beautiful, even scary, but I never thought I’d call you cute. The little reindeer—“  
“Don’t call me adorable,” she deadpanned. “Or I’ll take a holly branch and—“  
“Cora!” the Sheriff called enthusiastically from the top of the stairs. Cora broke into one of her rare, genuine smiles she reserved for a select few. “How are you?”  
“I’m fine Mr. Stilinski,” she answered. “Thanks again for having me.” When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he nodded at her and put a hand on his son’s shoulder.  
“We wouldn’t dream of having you spend the holidays alone. Huh, I like that sweater.”  
Stiles kept his mouth shut tight, but a laugh almost escaped. Cora shot him a look before looking at his dad warmly, or as warmly as a Hale could look at someone.  
“Thanks. Stiles has been talking up some infamous sugar cookie recipe and I don’t think I can bear any more suspense.”  
“Yes, hey Dad, can you get Cora started in the kitchen? Uh, I’ll be right back.” Without waiting for a response, Stiles tore up the stairs and into his bedroom. Cora and John looked at one another for a moment before the latter rolled his eyes and muttered about “that kid.” He gestured for Cora to follow him into the kitchen and began to explain the process to making Claudia’s melt-in-your-mouth sugar cookies. John had already assembled the ingredients and cookie cutters and was just reaching for his wife’s recipe book when his son stepped into the kitchen grandly, raising his arms above his head in a sweeping gesture.  
“Ta da,” he declared, smiling proudly. He was met with silence and stares from his father and his girlfriend. Stiles had rushed upstairs to recover an incredibly ugly holiday sweater from his closet to both impress Cora and set her at ease. Instead, she just shook her head at him. After a quiet moment, John chuckled.  
“Now I feel left out with my flannel,” he mumbled. “I guess that was a sign I should go now. I’ll just be out for an hour or two. You guys won’t burn the house down, right?”  
“You have to work on Christmas Eve?” Cora asked as the sheriff made his way toward the front door.  
“No, he’s probably going to visit Melissa McCall,” explained Stiles, winking at his father. “He’s going to spread Christmas cheer to his special lady fri—“  
“That’s enough,” John warned, a sheepish look creeping over his face. Cora swore she’d never seen an adult man ever blush so deeply. “I’m leaving you two alone, a very generous action.”  
“Fine,” Stiles conceded. “No more teasing you. I will, however, continue to tease Cora about her fantastic holiday sweater she seems so ashamed of.” The girl rolled her eyes and, waving once to the sheriff as he headed out, returned to the kitchen.  
“Cora, you do know I’m just trying to get you worked up. I’d never critique your appearance. That sweater is wicked cool.” She said nothing and continued to stare at him.  
“I always think you look nice, and I’m sorry if I offended you by saying you were adorable.”  
Still nothing from the girl.  
“Oh God,” groaned Stiles. “This is the silent treatment, isn’t it?”  
She raised one eyebrow at him and wordlessly flipped through the book on the kitchen counter until she found the sugar cookie recipe. She then crossed her arms and gestured at the page, encouraging Stiles to start on the first step.  
“Silence on Christmas Eve. Surely my beautiful and kind girlfriend wouldn’t dare put a damper on the night before my favorite holiday.” A corner of Cora’s mouth twitched, but she otherwise maintained a stoic expression.  
“We’re making cookies as a couple and will be spending all of Christmas together,” Stiles tried again. “We’re being adorable and cliché. We are the corny couple from television and movies we hate. The only thing that would make this situation cuter would be if I could come up with some mistletoe. Oh well, a hug will just have to suffice.”  
Stiles opened his arms and stepped toward Cora, prompting her to back away from him, unimpressed by his speech. She backed into the fridge, and as he continued to advance, placed a hand on his chest to stop him. Cora gave him a sarcastic, tight-lipped smile.  
“Oh, you’ve got me there,” said Stiles in an exaggerated tone. He shrugged and cast his eyes upward in a flippant manner. He was startled, or at least pretended to be, by what his gaze settled on. Grinning mischievously down at Cora, he slowly reached up to the top of the fridge and closed his hand around a small branch with green leaves and white berries. He brought it down and held it just above his head, in between him and Cora.  
“I know that mistletoe actually totally blows in the supernatural world, so this plant’s fake. However, I do believe the rules of the tradition still apply.” Cora stared at the branch for a moment, then grabbed the collar of Stiles’ sweater and pulled him toward her, fitting her mouth against his. She meant for the kiss to be quick and mostly just to serve the purpose of shutting him up, but sometimes when Cora kissed Stiles, she found herself never wanting to break away.  
So there they stayed, Cora’s back pressed firmly against the cool refrigerator door. Stiles had tossed the fake mistletoe away from them and cupped his hands around Cora’s face. She wrapped her arms around him and kneaded her fingers into his lower back. Stiles pulled away from the embrace only to start kissing down Cora’s jaw line and neck. She tilted her own head to peck at his cheek once or twice, then pressed her forehead against his.  
“Merry Christmas, Stiles,” she sighed happily.  
“Technically it’s ‘Merry Christmas Eve,’ but—“  
His correction was cut off by Cora going in for another kiss. Although he protested her premature greeting, he knew it would be a very merry Christmas indeed.


End file.
